I leaped over the bed, and upon the man who was trying to strangle the Countess. Mad to save and avenge her, I sank my dagger into the back of his shoulder, and he fell without having seen who had attacked him. The murderer who was struggling with Mathilde immediately turned from her and drew sword to attack me, at the same time crying out, "Garoche, to the rescue!"
"I LEAPED OVER THE BED, AND UPON THE MAN WHO WAS TRYING TO STRANGLE THE COUNTESS."
As I could not get the dagger out of the other man's shoulder joint in time, I drew my sword, and parried my new antagonist's thrust. The door now opened, and in came another man with drawn sword, not masked: he was, I suppose, the man on guard on the landing. Seeing how matters stood, he joined in the attack upon me. I backed into a corner, knocking over the chair of the Countess, who had run to Mathilde. The two women stood clasping each other, in terror. Suddenly my first assailant cried, "I leave him to you for a moment, Garoche," and ran and transferred the key from the outside to the inside of the door, which he then closed, so as to lock us all in. This was doubtless to prevent the exit of the Countess and Mathilde, the purpose being to keep the night's doings in that room as secret as possible even from the rest of the household. This man then pocketed the key, and, while Garoche continued to keep me occupied in my corner, ran to a side of the cell and began working with an iron wedge at a stone in the floor. He soon raised this, showing it to be a thin slab, and left exposed a dark hole. He then turned to the Countess, seized her around the waist, and tried to drag her toward the opening. His instructions had been, no doubt, to slay the women without bloodshed and drop the bodies through this secret aperture, but the unexpected turn of affairs had made him decide to precipitate the end and not strangle them first. Wild with horror at the prospect of their meeting so hideous a death, I sprang into the air, and ran my sword straight into the panting mouth of Garoche, so that the point came out at the back of his neck. He dropped, and I disengaged my weapon barely in time to check the onslaught of the other man, who, seeing Garoche's fate, had left the Countess and come at me again. I was out of breath after the violent thrusts I had made, and a mist now clouded my eyes. I know not how this last contest would have gone, had not Mathilde, recovering her self-command, drawn the sword of the man who had fallen first, and, holding it with both hands, pushed it with all her strength into my adversary's back.
I wiped my weapons on the clothes of the slain murderers. The Countess fell on her knees and thanked heaven for our preservation. I then went to the opening made by the removal of the stone slab: peering down, I could see nothing. I took the key of the door from the pocket of its last holder, and dropped it through the hole, while the Countess and Mathilde leaned over me, listening. Some moments passed before we heard anything; then there came the sound of the key striking mud in the black depths far below. The secret shaft, then, led to the bottom of the tower.
The Countess shuddered, and whispered: "Come, let us not lose a moment."
I first lifted the masks, and recognized the murderers as fellows I had seen lounging in the court-yard. Then I gave directions for descending the ladder. I should have preferred being the last to leave the room but that I thought it necessary to support the Countess in her descent and Mathilde firmly refused to precede us. As the ladder might not hold the weight of three, Mathilde would see us to the ground, and then follow.